Monday, April 04, 2011

drifting off on boulevard st-germain


I never dreamt of retirement.


I have friends who have been planning for retirement their entire working lives.  When.  Where.  How many resources they would need.


Not I.  I gave no thought to retirement -- other than socking away money for medical expenses.  But, where?  When?  How much would I need?  Not a thought.


They never entered my mind because I come from a family that is not genetically inclined to think about such things.  Dying in the traces is what my people do.  Retirement is for quitters.


That changed one weekend three years ago. 


Two people I knew died on the same day.  Those deaths reminded me that for several months, my professional journal included obituaries of attorneys half of whom were younger than your correspondent.  I had no desire to go like that.


Right there, I set a retirement date -- with Mexico as my target destination.


I started thinking about that this morning as I sat at my usual table in La Rana (The Frog) -- my neighborhood restaurant.


Visions of sidewalk cafes on the Left Bank danced in my head as I imagined fashionable and edgy Parisians parading past.


And I chuckled.  I was conjuring up a dream that was never mine.  Even though retirement in Paris sounds nice, I was happy with my current view.


A sandy cobblestone street.  Young women on bicycles.  A fruit juice vendor.  Rustic buildings.  And a feeling I was where I should be at the moment.


And that is not a bad feeling at this stage of my life.


33 comments:

  1. "And a feeling I was where I should be at the moment."

    I love both that line and the sentiment behind it. I have that hit me fairly often and I cherish the feeling. It is good to remember often how lucky we are to be where we want to be, and to have a life that interests us and challenges us.

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  2. I talk to far too many people who live a life of regret. I do not intend to be one of them.

    By the way, I am going to borrow your country mouse/city mouse theme in a day or two.

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  3. A sandy cobblestone street. Young women on bicycles. A fruit juice vendor. Rustic buildings. . . . and rivers of sweat running down your butt crack.

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  4. I on the other hand have been retired my entire life - it just took ne about 48 years to realize it - now the fit is fine ;-)

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  5. Whenever we have been gone from SMA for a few weeks and we return, I strongly feel that I'm back where I should be. Sometimes we think about going to other places for a month or so but I never want to leave "Home" for that long.

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  6. I always knew I would retire, but the impulse to do so came upon me fairly suddenly, as it did for you, for pretty much the same reasons. People around me started dropping like flies, and I put quite a bit it down to the stressful, squirrel-wheel life they led. The goddess of career and work, American style, rarely gets people where they think it will...that was my revelation. Work and career can be important and fulfilling, but they are only a small part of the picture.

    It's a good feeling to know that at this stage of life and to be around to enjoy it.

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  7. Ahhh, a little slice of heaven.. You in Canada?(emoticon of your choice goes here)

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  8. Señor Zapata has such a way with words…

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  9. Just think of all the sidewalk cafes and museum tours you can garner in SMA. Who knows you may even volunteer to be a docent at one of the museums....

    The only hesitation I had was if I would have enough stuff to do..but with 25 acres of land and a house.....I am busier than I would have imagined.

    The only thing one needs to do is to keep the mind working otherwise death will rush in, and you seem to have that under control quite well.

    I am glad that you are indeed enjoying your time, I am sadden by the folks who don't know what they want and will not achieve much either.

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  10. But not this time of year. The days are watm, but comfortable -- and I still need a blanket at night. But we are mere weeks away from the sweat pools. And then I will concede your point.

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  11. Our entire familiy could qualify as poster children for The Protestant Work Ethic. There is joy in work. But there may be more joy in my hammock.

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  12. Amen to that. I have several friends who seem to be convinced that the way to die is at their desks.

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  13. No. But we do have a large group of people who speak French down here during the tourist season.

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  14. He does, indeed.

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  15. When I was in Oregon last year, I had dinner with a friend who was putting together his plans for retirement within the next two years. Like any lawyer, he was worried about the change of pace. "What do you do with all that free time?" I laughed. He found it hard to believe that I cannot come close to getting all the things done I would like to do. Retirement is heaven if you simply allow yourelf to have the inquisitiveness of a child.

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  16. I have never been a person of place. But that may be changing. Whenever I take peole to the Manzanillo airport, I love the drive back to the house. It almost feels as if I am returning to Mexico for a new adventure.

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  17. I'm with you. I love to travel but I'm happy where I am. By the way, your header photo looks like a Mayan dwelling.Is it?

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  18. No. It is one of our west coast beach huts. Rectangular -- without the rounded ends of Maya dwellings.

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  19. Great post and so happy you have gotten into the "rhythm" of Mexico. I too never thought of retiring til I did it - in a period of 5 months. During that whirlwind of selling the business, my house and most of my worldly possessions, I never doubted it was the right thing to do. I was just amazed at how easy it was.......
    I'm not "busy" like in the USA - just enough to keep me interested in life, culture and I don't even have to pursue happiness - it's all around me.
    There was a segment on TV yesterday about people over 65 going back to work and I thought "Oh Lord, aren't I lucky to not be in that place". And, then I remember that someone once said to me that those of us that are lucky worked darn hard to get there.............

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  20. but BabsofSanMiguel, didn't you just say yesterday, that you didn't know what do to with the time when you wake up around 6? I found that so odd.....that's such a beautiful time of day, especially when you're alone. And especially in San Miguel, when the bakeries are awakening, and the schoolkids are walking with the goats to school.
    I've never had to move to another country to figure out that the simple life is a grand one.

    Art Moretti

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  21. And I am even finding enjoyment in the annoyances. That darn water lettuce is giving me a purpose in life.

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  22. But we all know what Emerson had to say about foolish consistency.

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  23. Not a big fan of Emerson, not since Lake and Palmer, split.

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  24. There is retiring and there is retiring.

    Yours is retiring: from one discipline to another.

    Making a day has its work. It takes imagination to structure time. And water lettuce. And an alligator. And girls on bicycles.

    Have you started a new branch of cafe society? The Flaneurs' Philosophical Salon, perhaps?

    Are you wearing your flannels rolled? And a white Panama hat?

    Just precisely who is it that you have become?

    ANM

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  25. Good one that.

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  26. In my madder moments, I imagine myself to be a retired attorney with writing aspirations. And then reality intrudes.

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  27. And don't think I missed that satirization of my prose and formatting style, Mr. English Major.

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  28. but fuzzy is the memory of Whitman asking "Do I contradict myself?"

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  29. And that reality is what precisely? That you are a ex-pat Hungarian Count hiding out from his many creditors?

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  30. Hush. They listen, you know.

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  31. There are no school kids out in the dark of 6AM here and sadly no goats on our street anymore. Bakeries here don't open til at least 8AM, I know I've tried..........BUT I do enjoy the birdsong and my cup of coffee up on the roof once the sun comes up.

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  32. No one will accuse this lot of being stodgy.

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